


Please read summary

by anushka__27



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst, Annoyed John, BAMF Mary, F/M, M/M, Misunderstandings, Post-Episode: s03e03 His Last Vow, Sherlock Being Sherlock, Whump
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-04
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:42:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27864005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anushka__27/pseuds/anushka__27
Summary: This is a snippet of the starting of a something I’m working on.I hope to post this in full if you lot happen to like this.This is my first project. Comment on how and what I can improve on. Tell me if you like it. Tell me if you hate it.Angsty, Mary is naughty and nice, Sherlock is annoying, John is annoyed... I don’t know how to write a summary. It is just about 1000 words long. Give it a chance. Go on and read.The fic kinda jumps between POVs and timelines, and internal thought is represented in Italics. Let me know if it is too confusing. I’ll edit it better.
Relationships: Mary Morstan/John Watson, Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Comments: 4
Kudos: 3





	Please read summary

Eyes fixed on the microscope, without any focus on the slide presenting the mould found from the 24 day old corpse from Mills Ave; Sherlock notices that John had walked up the stairs and through the side door and has caught a glimpse of him at the table. Visibly less agitated than he was two days ago. Time heals: apparently that’s true. But, two days? Too early. A waft of air passes Sherlock as John makes an attempt to go upstairs without a word. 

_Familiar._

_Too familiar._

_Perfume._

_Unkind_ , reminding him of that happening day _._

_Not too smart for someone undercover to keep using the same perfume to this day. Wrong line of thought. But is it not better to stay on this line of thought than think as to why John smells like that, right now, at this moment?_

He closes his eyes, bites down on his closed lips and reminds himself of the day after he and John first met and how he displayed his _powers_ of deduction on someone other than John himself: Donovan, Anderson;

_John._

_Far too obvious as to where he’s been, what he has been doing._

_Claire-de-la-lune._

Sherlock releases a small but shuddering breath once John is out of sight and earshot.

_Have I been that annoying? Possibly, but isn’t John acclimatised to my misconduct by now to not be bothered by them anymore? Must really stop being such an arse. He’d gone to seek refuge, comfort, familiarity. Away from me? Escaping the ties that I must have too unknowingly tightened around him. Is she his refuge, his last resort? The thought hurts._

He tries to calm himself back down into concentrating on the promising little piece of evidence right under the lens.

_Right._

_Mould._

_Hyphae. Wonderful array, intriguing._

_Intriguing._

_Yet undiscovered._

_Can’t._

_Focus._

*

“You go after him and apologise. Right. now.” John says pointedly towards the door to Sherlock.

Sherlock turns his head while sat at his armchair and takes a look at John over his steepled fingers. “Oh, now I take orders from you, _Captain_ , was it?” Sherlock retorts, eyebrows shooting up. 

“You know it would be nice of you to show a modicum of respect every now and then” 

“To your too human self or to your little _friend_?” 

John successfully fights the urge to snap at Sherlock and responds with “Both. Could use more apologising and less insulting. Go.”

“John, I think that it was plenty clear that I was stating facts as they appeared to me rather than insulting him as you blatantly accused me of.” 

“It was rather obvious, what he was here for” Sherlock adds a moment later after a while of evaluation if that statement should hang in the air.

 _He had been here for John._ Sherlock recounts in his head _. Definitely not going to get away with him being John’s centre of attraction._

“Obvious?” John smiles that devilish murderous smile that he wears, when on the edge of anger, waiting for the slightest nudge to push him off.

“A platonic stare does not entail such long—“

“Did I ask?” John cuts him off midway. He breathes in through his mouth and closes his eyes to calm himself down before speaking up again.

“He’s a friend. A friend from a long time back. We’ve known each other since we were too young to remember— you know, it doesn’t matter what we are or were. You insulted the fellow, and now you go and apologise.”

_What we are or were. What were they?_

“I’d like to see you try and make me apologise” Sherlock sits up and stares intensely at John, cocking his head slightly, with a unbashful smile.

John returns the intense gaze with that same smile from some time ago and gets up from his chair; nodding his head from the annoyance Sherlock has delivered and moves towards the door and stops momentarily at the stairs going down.

“Where are you going?”

“Out”

“Perhaps not stating the obvious might help with your cause of not being—“

John, knowing what Sherlock is going to state, now decidedly rapidly goes down the stairs with newfound anger. 

“John!” Sherlock shouts after him, but hears him slam the door downstairs.

“—of not being such a dimwit all the time” John mutters Sherlock’s statement to a finish to himself as he puts of his gloves and waves for a taxi.

*

_This was the last straw. I cannot deal with him. He is— he is too much of everything. Too annoying. No filters. He offends too many people, some deservedly so, but yet. He so does need to learn the least basic of human decency. Not everyone is me, open to listen to Sherlock ramble about their whole life’s story from the colour and texture of their tie. And why is it even me, who willingly listens to him ramble on horrible statements about clients, friends, everyone, unapologetically? And now, even I’m tired. This was too far. He had gone too far, even with precedent warnings from me to prevent any such behaviour in front of James. But why would he listen? He’s Sherlock. He’ll do whatever in the hell he’ll want to. No Sherlock, your genius does not excuse your unceremonious behaviour._

The cab stops, bringing John back to reality, at a house, practically almost in ruins, but bringing back fond memories.

_How old am I?_

He pays for the cab while taking in the view of the former grand scheme of the house and goes to ring the doorbell. 

“Who is it?” A known voice asks.

“Its me.. uhm.. John”

“Oh!” A little surprised, and then, “oh..” a little subdued, the voice returns and unlocks the door.

“James! Thought I’d find you here.”

“You were always the smart one” James says with a smile.

“James, one thing for starters, on behalf of Sherlock, I’m—“

“John, there’s absolutely no need for that” James says softly and places a hand on his upper arm reassuringly, “I’ve heard he’s a bit difficult”, he smiles.

“A lot difficult” John laughs back.

“So you’re going to just stand back there and catch a cold or do you intend on coming in?”

John smiles at him and enters the familiar establishment.


End file.
